


Save a broom, ride a Seeker

by newtmasdoesthedo



Series: Well, except Newt. He calls me Tommy. [8]
Category: The Maze Runner (2014), The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Aris Jones/Gally - Freeform, Background Relationships, Gally/Aris Jones, Harry Potter AU, M/M, Newt is a huge Granger fan, mentions of Minho/Thomas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-11
Updated: 2015-04-04
Packaged: 2018-02-20 18:11:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2438186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/newtmasdoesthedo/pseuds/newtmasdoesthedo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Newt bit his lip softly, glancing at Fry from his dorm and sort of hoped Thomas wasn’t going over here. Newt was Head Boy and Thomas was trouble. Thomas got into all sorts of weird shit, and Newt really didn’t have the time. So maybe he had a stupid crush because let’s be real, even if a lot of shit changed with Harry Potter, Slytherin-kids still had a reputation of being bad boys, and Thomas had that smile and those amber eyes that promised 9 kinds of trouble, and after Newt found out that Thomas was a half-blood he couldn’t stop picturing him in some stupid leather-jacket with a fag between his lips. It was terrible. He was also a completely fit Seeker and he had a habit of licking said lips and it was really putting a strain on Newt’s self-control.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. Prompted by an anon on Tumblr as a part of [this challenge](http://newtmasdoesthedo.tumblr.com/post/99486012115/oops-made-a-newmas-bingo-card-lets-be-real-im). By all means, feel free to prompt me [here](http://newtmasdoesthedo.tumblr.com/ask). Also please kudos and feedback and all that jazz.  
> 2\. I'm a huge Harry Potter nerd so I'm really glad someone requested this  
> 3\. I spent a lot of time wondering where to put everyone. 'cause they're all really brave but also canonically very clever. And obviously you gotta be ambitious to gtfo of a death Maze. So yeah. I get if some of you guys had/have other ideas about where they'd fit. This was fun, I might do another HP AU once, so if you have suggestions feel free to hit me up in the comments or on Tumblr, just don't be rude about it, I actually have reasons for placing them where I did ok thnx.  
> 4\. Potter Porn yay!  
> 5\. Yes I'm going to keep it up with the awful sex-pun-titles all through this bingo challenge if I can and I'm not sorry at all.  
> 6\. I know there's usually a Head Boy and a Head Girl but go with me here, Newt and Alby are the leaders in the Glade, just humor me pls.

The final year of school.  
  
Newt should definitely feel happier. Wasn’t a bloke supposed to feel happy about finishing school? Wasn’t it supposed to be all rock and roll Mugglerock School’s Out For Summer crap? Wasn’t it supposed to be fun and parties and fire whiskey and snogging? It definitely wasn’t happening for Newt right now, and he was being, yes, a bit sulky. So what? He had every right to sulk with all of his responsibilities. He was Quidditch commentator, he was Head Boy together with his buddy Alby from Gryffindor, and he was taking a shitload of N.E.W.T.’s, having joined every course he could only beaten in numbers by the Ravenclaws and of course Alby because he was about as much of an over-achiever as the infamous Hermione Granger.  
  
That meant a lot of play and very little play. That meant working hard, but not playing hard. And Newt wanted to play. Newt wanted to have fun, but he had so many responsibilities, and he was honestly losing it a bit, so even though that was completely against regulations, he found himself at a small party down by the lake. It was very silent, some of the brainier kids had managed to shield them. He had no idea how, Newt might’ve been a bright kid, but it was better not knowing. He was planning to bolt pretty quickly if anyone that wouldn’t be joining the party drew near.  
  
A lot of the 7th years he knew were here – which was probably not that safe, seeing as fire whiskey bottles were littered all over and a lot of them were playing Quidditch tomorrow. Slytherin against Hufflepuff. Should be fun. And speaking of Slytherin, one very, _very_ attractive Seeker that Newt luckily didn’t have a lot of classes with was right now sauntering over to him. (He wouldn’t have be able to focus, he’d had a couple of classes with Tommy in 6 th year and the dude stretched _a lot_. A lot more than he probably needed to anyway, Newt was quite certain Quidditch couldn’t put that much of a strain on his (very well-trained) back.)  
  
Newt bit his lip softly, glancing at Fry from his dorm and sort of hoped Thomas wasn’t going over here. Newt was Head Boy and Thomas was trouble. Thomas got into all sorts of weird shit, and Newt really didn’t have the time. So maybe he had a stupid crush because let’s be real, even if a lot of shit changed with Harry Potter, Slytherin-kids still had a reputation of being bad boys, and Thomas had that smile and those amber eyes that promised 9 kinds of trouble, and after Newt found out that Thomas was a half-blood he couldn’t stop picturing him in some stupid leather-jacket with a fag between his lips. It was terrible. He was also a completely fit Seeker and he had a habit of licking said lips and it was really putting a strain on Newt’s self-control.  
  
He still remembered (with pain) catching Thomas and Minho (who Newt really liked, actually, but had sort of a strained relationship with after that episode) in the hallway with Minho’s lips tight around Thomas. Just the thought made his cheeks burn. It had been so uncomfortable, so awkward, so painful and so fucking hot he’d almost creamed himself right then and there. Ever since he’d avoided Thomas, not because his heart had been broken (of course he’d felt a bit defeated, he’d always told himself that Thomas was into girls and that was why it’d never work between them), just because watching someone you had a huge dorky crush on getting sucked off by someone else wasn’t particularly enjoyable. Newt had ordered them to bed and definitely _not_ blushed when Thomas had been buttoning his jeans. Minho took off straight away, not really one to stand around and talk with a boner straining his pants, but Thomas (of course) didn’t care at all, and had proceeded to flirt with Newt until he promised not to take points from Slytherin or Ravenclaw. It hadn’t taken that long. Newt had really wanted to get away before Thomas noticed the embarrassing boner he was sporting. Ever since he’d tried to ignore the other guy as much as possible, but sometimes Thomas shot him those knowing looks that made Newt want to bang his head against the wall.  
So maybe he’d fantasized about it later. Maybe he’d put himself instead of Minho. Maybe he’d imagined Thomas banging _him_ against the wall.  
  
It wasn’t important, though, because Thomas was all kinds of trouble and Newt actually wanted to make it through the last of his school year without being thrown out or having taken his extra curricular activities from him, and he strongly suspected that nearing Thomas in any way would do just that. Everyone knew that the headmaster adored him and that was the only reason he was allowed to stay though he made so much trouble. Well, that and he was the slipperiest bugger on the entire earth. Newt definitely had never gotten himself to actually get him in trouble.  
  
“Aren’t Hufflepuffs supposed to be like those kind of hyper-social blokes you can’t get rid off?” a slightly scratchy voice sounded, and Newt closed his eyes, wishing for just a couple of seconds that Thomas would sod off. He liked the guy well enough, but he just made his life so, so hard. _So very hard – shut up – you’re talking to yourself – shut up, you’re me – maybe think about answering the bloke instead of talking to yourself in your head? – FUCK you – more like fuck me Thomas – STOP!!!_  
  
“Aren’t Slytherin’s supposed to be self-righteous, ambitious dickwads? Oh wait, you completely fill that stereotype, congrats.” Newt muttered angrily, shoving the onslaught of dirty thoughts from his brain because honestly he didn’t need to mental image of Thomas pounding him against a wall if he was going to feign nonchalance. He was pretty certain he was already failing. He took another sip of the goblet between his hands, blind to what he was actually drinking, and stubbornly trying not to look at Thomas. He’d had a bit to drink, and he didn’t want to get himself into a situation he couldn’t get out of again. “What’re you doing here, Tommy? I’m sure there are plenty of people here willing to shower you with adoration.”  
  
Thomas shrugged next to him and Newt hoped that was the end of it. _Just hold on for another two minutes, mate, he’ll be gone. He’ll lose interest when you don’t give him the attention he wants._  
  
It didn’t work though. Thomas just smirked (Newt didn’t look, but with guys like Thomas you could basically hear it in their voices, the buggers) “Oi, that stings mate,  I just wanna talk to the golden boy of our year, is that so bad? Maybe we could make a study-date.” He suggested and Newt didn’t even have to force the rolling of his eyes. What a bloody dork.  
  
“You wouldn’t be able to keep up.” He stated, trying not to let the annoyance creep into his voice because really it wasn’t Thomas’ fault that Newt couldn’t look at him for more than two seconds without getting ridiculously turned on.  
  
The laughter that followed his snarky comment had shivers running up and down his spine in seconds. “I’m pretty certain I could keep up just fine, Newt. You underestimate me, I’m pretty sure I could run you down.” He stated, and the fine hairs on the back of Newt’s neck stood up. The tone of his voice left absolutely nothing to his imagination and he wanted to shove at Thomas and force him to leave.  
  
“Leave it Tommyboy, I’m not interested in teaching you anything at all.” He pointed out, deliberately playing stupid. Acknowledging Thomas’ flirting definitely wouldn’t get him anywhere he wanted to go. _Well, it would, but that’s the problem, innit?_ The voice in the back of his head stated, and Newt decided that maybe Occlumency was a thing he needed to learn because he couldn’t really believe that his own brain would make it so hard for him to ignore Thomas and stop being a bloody perv. _Well, if you learned Occlumency that would shield you from getting your mind penetrated, and we all know that you’re all for penetration, don’t we?_  
  
Another long drag of his goblet left it empty and it was snatched from his hand the second he was about to put it down. He turned his head, about to protest, and mere inches from his face Thomas was smiling victoriously. “Eye-contact, I’ll take that as a win, wouldn’t you?”  
  
Another eye roll, and he wrinkled his nose in disgust. “Keep telling yourself that, Tommy. You’re losing tomorrow anyway, better take what you can get today.”  
  
His gaze definitely didn’t shoot to Thomas’ lips when the Slytherin smirked, wetting his lips with his tongue. “I thought the commentator wasn’t supposed to play favourites? Be at peace, dear Newt, I fully intend to take what I can get today.”  
  
And with those words he pressed a now-full goblet into Newt’s hands, getting up and leaving. Newt’s heart thumped a bit at that, sinking slightly in his chest. So maybe he liked it when Thomas flirted with him. Maybe he enjoyed the attention, and maybe even if he wasn’t going to actually be with Thomas, the thought that maybe he could if he wanted to was comforting. He knew that he’d probably get burned on a guy like Thomas, but at least it wasn’t like the other guy didn’t _want_ him. He probably just didn’t want him for as long as Newt wanted someone to want him. Thomas didn’t exactly seem like the one wizard a time kind of guy. So he tried not to look too disappointed and smelled the stuff Thomas had handed him instead, trying his best not to look too suspicious. He sipped it cautiously and rubbed his forehead when his eye caught Thomas sitting down next to Minho. He grimaced slightly, trying to make his face look as sarcastic as humanly possible when he really just felt annoyed and a bit hurt. He didn’t even know if the two of them were doing anything anymore or if they’d stopped goofing off together. It just didn’t change the fact that the image that he’d been supressing for about a year now was back full force, and it didn’t make him feel particularly festive.  
  
“Hey Fry, I think I’m going to hit the shack.” He muttered, starting to stand up, but was immediately kidnapped by his housemate and the youngest person there – Chuck, Alby’s housemate. How the boy was so brave Newt didn’t really know, but hey, he wasn’t one to question the Sorting Hat anyway. Just being here as a younger student probably took some serious balls. “Uh, where are we going?” he asked as he was dragged along, not liking the fact that they were heading straight for Thomas and Minho. He grimaced when his suspicions proved right and he was forced to sit down right across from them, Chuck and Fry plopping down as well. “I was going to bed…” he protested weakly, having been placed just across from Thomas who was making a show of drinking straight from the bottle.  
  
“Want company?” the Slytherin asked, and Newt groaned loudly to show his displeasure at the horrendous innuendo. Maybe he preferred Thomas blowing the bottle to this. _Maybe you just prefer Thomas to use that pretty mouth of his blowing_ yout. His mind helpfully pointed out, and he barely resisted the urge to slam his head against a stump until he fainted. Why did it have to be this hard? _There’s that word again. – Shut up. – Can you make me though? – I can drown myself in the lake. – Well, that wouldn’t be very smart, then you won’t graduate, you might as well just shag the Slytherin._  
  
Newt decided that ignoring his brain was definitely the best option because the pictures it conjured right now were downright filthy. He snatched the bottle from Thomas’ fingers without saying a word and ignored the burn as he poured firewhiskey down his throat like his life depended on it. His friends just stared in amazement.  
  
“Never have I ever?” Chuck asked and the others groaned. “What?! You did it last time!”  
  
“Wait,” Newt said, holding up a hand as he put the bottle down, “Last time? Do you do this a lot?”  
  
Thomas shook his head and smirked (which made the next sentence bloody unconvincing) “Noooooo.”  
  
Eyeroll.  
  
Smirk.  
  
The eternal dance.  
  
“It’s such a stupid Muggle game though. You literally just tell people all your dirty secrets.” Fry stated, making Chuck shrug.  
  
“That’s the fun part, though, or we could play truth or dare?” he suggested, and Newt definitely didn’t like the way Thomas’ eyes lit up. He noted not to answer dare if the Slytherin was the one asking him. That would definitely not bring anything good.  
  
Newt was way too clever to do something stupid, so when Thomas turned towards him Newt said “Truth” before the question was even asked. Thomas’ eyes flashed with joy and Newt’s heart sank in his chest yet again. Damn it. This couldn’t be good. “Truth, huh? Okay. Newt, have you ever been with a guy, and do you want to?”  
  
 _Damn it._  
  
He could feel his cheeks flush and he grabbed the bottle again, taking a healthy swig and shaking his head. “Only one question at a time, Tommy. No, I haven’t.” he stated, and Thomas snorted, rolling his eyes. Newt smirked and noted to himself that it was fun to have the upper hand with Thomas. It happened so rarely. Role-reversal and all that stuff.  
  
Newt was seriously considering leaving. This was silly. He knew he was going to get in trouble. He knew that _Thomas_ was trouble. He’d already been staring at his lips for too long and he hated himself for being unable to tear his gaze away. Chuck waved a hand in front of his eyes and he shook his head a bit to clear it. “Sorry, zoned out.” He muttered, ignoring the smug smile on Thomas’ face and looking at his friend.  
  
“Truth or dare?” Chuck asked, looking so earnest that Newt couldn’t bring himself to believe that the little bugger would use anything against him. So he was an idiot. He said dare. He’d forgotten how much Chuck adored Thomas. He’d forgotten that behind those big brown eyes and that curly mop of hair there was a sadistic mastermind hiding. The jerk should have been in Slytherin. He seemed almost gleeful when he nodded at Thomas. “You’re sitting in the Greenie’s lap for the rest of the night.” He ordered, and Newt spent 7 full seconds trying to figure out exactly what curse he wanted to throw at Chuck while Thomas started complaining loudly about being called Greenie just because his bloody tie was green. Newt wanted to violently murder both of them. Maybe strangle Thomas in said tie. Frypan, of course, was laughing his ass off, and Newt was seriously considering if he could possibly get away with Avadaing his entire group of friends.  
  
“No.” he ended up saying.  
  
Everyone fell silent at the same time. For all their nagging about Chuck’s stupid Muggle games, they had always respected the code. Rules must be obeyed. It was a code of honour. Frypan stopped laughing and stared at Newt in wonder. “Come on, man, it’s just a game. I’m sure he won’t bite.” He tried, and Newt huffed and glared at Chuck, but moved over and planted himself in Thomas’ lap, not even trying to sit down gracefully. Instead he flopped down and crossed his arms over his chest, ignoring Thomas’ quiet ‘uuumph’ because he sat down too hard.  
  
“Chuck, by Merlin Chuck, I bloody swear, I’m coming for your arse when it’s my turn.” He stated, relishing the way the younger boy paled. He grabbed the bottle again, leaning his head back and started drinking, managing to get a couple of gulps down before Thomas reached around him and grabbed it.  
  
“Maybe you should slow down a bit, mate.” He pointed out, and Newt didn’t even want to look back because deep down he really appreciated that Thomas was trying to look out for him. “You have to get up at the same time as the rest of us tomorrow, remember you’re going to the match as well.”  
  
Newt grumbled angrily at him but didn’t really come up with something clever to say. Instead he focused on Frypan who was now asking Thomas something that piqued the Hufflepuff’s interest. _Did he say crush?_ “Yeah.” An amused voice said from behind him, and Newt actually turned his head to look over his shoulder at Thomas this time.  
  
He hadn’t realized how close they were. “What?” he asked, leaning back a bit to create just the semblance of distance between their faces. “I didn’t hear the question.” He complained, whining slightly.

  
“Only one question at a time, Newtie.” Thomas stated, looking way too smug as he put his arms around Newt’s waist. “For comfort.” He explained, and Newt honestly wanted to murder him. _Or suck his dick. Both could work._  
  
He’d gotten to reaching after the bottle before Thomas stopped him, putting his arms over Newt’s, effectively trapping them. “That’s ridiculous, I just asked what the first question was, did he ask if you had a crush on anyone? That’s a really lame questions, the ones I got were much more invasive.” He pointed out, starting to wonder why he wasn’t any drunker because honestly he felt pretty damn eloquent and the alcohol had done nothing to quiet the way his brain enthusiastically pointed out that he was _sitting in Thomas’ lap with his arms around him._ He still wasn’t getting any answers, so in the end he huffed angrily, stood up and glared at the Slytherin who seemed to realize that he’d overstepped his bounds and stood up behind him.  
  
Newt shook his head in warning and stomped off not even understanding what the hell he’d been doing, because really he didn’t know why he was so upset. Maybe it was because Thomas had been flirting with him while sitting right next to Minho. Maybe he was just tired of lying to himself about what he actually felt for the other student. Maybe he was tired of marvelling at the way amber eyes would look in the light of the sun. Maybe he was tired of feeling his heart flutter when Thomas’ eyes crinkled slightly at the edges when he laughed. Maybe he was tired of wanting to drop to his knees every time Thomas as much as spoke to him. Maybe he was tired of being sexually frustrated and played with, and maybe he was just being a little bit unreasonable because he was drunk and stressed out. None the less he kept walking, not sparing a single glance back, and though he wasn’t particularly surprised, he still didn’t know if he should feel happy or annoyed that footsteps sounded behind him. “Hey, Newt, wait up mate, I didn’t mean to mock you, I was just making a joke.” Thomas laughed, obviously not sorry at all, and Newt spun around after having stomped a few steps further away from the others, bringing out his wand because he needed to show Thomas that he was serious. He was angry and he honestly wanted to hex the living hell out of him.  
  
“Very bloody funny, Thomas, lay off, or I swear, I’ll make sure you don’t get to play anything at all tomorrow.” He hissed, gritting his teeth when Thomas cocked an eyebrow at him. “I’m not playing, Tommy, leave me alone, I’m tired of you laughing at me.”  
  
He’d sort of hoped that Thomas would have enough respect for him to ignore the way his voice cracked ever so slightly and just leave him alone, but of course the bugger wasn’t that nice. Instead he walked closer. “Is that really what you want to do, Newt? Hex me? For flirting with you? Don’t tell me you honestly think I’m that bad.” He said, keeping his voice so light that Newt wanted to stuff his wand right down his bloody throat. _Or stuff something else down his bloody throat. – Not now. – Yes now._  
  
“You know I don’t. I want you to leave me alone, Thomas, I told you that a million times, this is not fun anymore. Making fun of me for liking you really isn’t fair at all! I knew you were an asshole, I guess you have to be to be in that stupid house of yours, but at least try to pick on someone not in your close group of friends so the poor bugger can avoid you instead of having to see you getting your bloody cock socked by-“  
  
He didn’t get much further in his sentence. His words died in his throat when Thomas closed in, once again only inches from him as he was forced to take a step backwards, landing himself against a tree, and he sank a lump after he’d regained his balance.  
  
“That’s what all of this was about? Are you so bloody jealous oh fucking _Minho_ that you-“  
  
This time Newt was the one to interrupt the sentence. The unique mix of alcohol, desire and anger finally overcame his self-control, which, to be fair, had been stretched to the limit for a long time. Finally taking control of the situation tastes almost as sweet as Thomas’ lips when he closed the distance between them, tangling his fingers in the Slytherin’s hair slightly harder than he really had to and crashed their lips together. Kissing Thomas was like fire. It was like being picked up and spun around, it was like a high, it was like he was born to do this. Frantic hands were on his body, and Newt could do nothing but cling to him and pour every ounce of aggression and ( _sexual_ ) frustration into the kiss, not even allowing himself to savour the way Thomas grasped at him just as desperately as Newt himself was pulling at his hair and shirt. “Fucking Slytherins and your fucking-“ he muttered, his angry words turning into a gasp when Thomas moved to mouth at his neck, and Newt didn’t have to look to know that he was smirking _again_. “Still want to – ah – hex you.” He forced out between gritted teeth, and a snort of laughter left Thomas as he pinned Newt’s wrists against the trunk behind him.  
  
“No you don’t. There are plenty of other things you’d like to do to me. Or have me do to you. Remind me to buy Chuck the biggest Christmas present on this earth.” He muttered, obviously not really spending a lot of time thinking about Chuck (a fact that Newt definitely appreciated but didn’t want to bring up right now because he was honestly way too engrossed in Thomas’ body pressed so closely against his). Newt’s suspicions of Thomas’ thoughts being far, _far_ from occupied with their friends were confirmed when the Slytherin Seeker pushed his thigh close against him, and the moan that left him was all but suited for such a public place. This was already going far beyond making out, and Newt was painfully aware that if they didn’t move right now he’d lose every ounce of determination to ever leave the spot.  
  
“Maybe,” he panted, kissing Thomas’ lips hungrily again, “We should go somewhere else.” He suggested, not actually expecting Thomas to respond so quickly, but the eagerness the other guy moved with was oddly comforting. It made him feel like he wasn’t the only one on the verge of embarrassing himself thoroughly.  
  
“Any suggestions? If not I have a spot.” Thomas stated, never moving for more than a second, and the way his hands insisted on being _everywhere_ made it very, very hard to think.  
  
It didn’t make it impossible though, and even if he was just waiting to get his brains shagged out, sarcasm was still Newt’s mother tongue, and he even managed to roll his eyes, “I’m sure you do. I have my own room in my dorm, Head Boy privileges.”  
  
___________________________________________________________________________________________________________  
  
Stumbling into the Hufflepuff common room wasn’t the stealthiest of moves, but fortunately Newt’s room was secluded from the other’s. They only just made it inside before anyone showed up in the common room to find out who had knocked over a stack of books, and no one was going to be able to come in, seeing as Thomas had wasted no time shoving Newt against the door. “Been wanting to do this since 4 th year, took you long enough.” Thomas muttered.  
  
Newt filed away that information to ask about later, because right now he couldn’t really focus, seeing as he was already being undressed very effectively. He managed to shove Thomas’ head away for long enough to mutter “Insulato” under his breath while pointing his wand at the door. Thomas snorted again, resuming his task of nibbling at every inch of skin on Newt’s body, “Well aren’t you mighty clever. That’s probably a good choice, though, wouldn’t want all your housemates to know why you’re going to be hoarse tomorrow at the game.” He drawled, and Newt’s brain decided that this would be a great time to send all blood in his body rapidly downwards, making his knees buckle ever so slightly.  
  
“Maybe use that mouth for something more productive,” he started, almost getting to the end of his sentence before Thomas shoved a hand down his pants, no finesse what-so-ever, but it was Thomas and he was staring Newt right in the eye and if that wasn’t enough to make anyone come given enough time Newt sure as hell didn’t know what was. His mouth felt dry and he licked his lips, completely unable to break eye contact, even though he definitely wanted to when he saw Thomas’ victorious smirk. He narrowed his eyes a bit instead and shed his shirt to the ground without a word. “I said,” he pointed out, pausing to remove Thomas’ hand and walking over to his bed, doing his best to seem confident although he was pretty sure that most of this sudden courage was coming from the alcohol, “Mouth.”  
  
At that he turned around and was met by Thomas who was gaping at him, and Newt couldn’t keep the flutters out of his chest. It felt good to have Thomas look at him like that after having felt like he was the only one affected by whatever weird flirt they’d had going for so long. “You just going to stand there?” he asked, although he definitely didn’t mind having a couple of seconds to take Thomas in. His shirt was lying discarded by the door and his toned chest bared to the room. Some time along the way to the common room they’d had to stop and make out for a solid 5 minutes and Newt recalled unbuttoning and unzipping Thomas’ ridiculously tight jeans back then, which meant that they were right now open. Thomas looked like sin personified with his hair mussed up and although he was a sight to behold, Newt was pretty glad he was spurred into movement by the mocking words, because coming from just staring at him didn’t seem so improbable right now.  
  
What he hadn’t expected Thomas to do was the rush over to him and all but tackle him to the bed. Next second he found himself pinned to the bed with Thomas on all fours over him, taking in his face as though it was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. “Accio lube.” Thomas muttered, and Newt felt his entire face heat up even though that was completely ridiculous, because he’d known where they were going with this all the time. He swallowed thickly, and Thomas smirked down at him when a tube slapped against his hand, having travelled only from the drawer in the bedside table, “Naughty. Have you been thinking of me using this, huh?” he asked, sitting up just enough that he could help Newt out of his pants, never taking his eyes from Newt’s face, and if he hadn’t been so drunk he probably wouldn’t have nodded, but 1) He was, 2) He couldn’t force a single word from his lips right now even if he tried. Thomas’ thigh was pressing against him again, this time with nothing between them except for Thomas’ jeans, a fact that had Newt squirming. His jeans were rough and Newt found that he didn’t exactly hate it. Maybe the stupid Muggle skinny jeans had their charms – another thing to ponder when he was done being driven utterly insane slowly but effectively.  
  
He yelped and squirmed again when he felt cold, slick fingers press against him, and he bit his lip hard. “You sure?” Thomas asked, and honestly Newt hadn’t expected him to ask permission, so he just gritted his teeth in order not to whine, instead barking out a quick order,  
  
“Just bloody do it, Tommy, or I swear to God-“ the rest of the sentence disappeared into a surprised gasp and Thomas stilled immediately. Newt wanted to murder him violently and if he’d been more coherent mentally right now he’d probably have pondered how unhealthy _that_ was to think about his crush.  
  
Instead of getting angry, though, he got surprised, because seconds later Thomas was between his legs and Newt’s hips bucked almost instantly when warm lips engulfed him. Every ounce of anger was effectively eradicated as warmth enveloped him and he found that he couldn’t tear his gaze from the glorious sight further down. Thomas was bobbing his head like he’d done nothing else his entire life (Newt rapidly pushed that thought from his mind because honestly mental images of Minho wasn’t on his wishlist for tonight) and focused on not pulling Thomas’ hair out of his scalp instead, fighting to keep his hips still. If he’d known that Thomas sucked dick like a pro he wouldn’t have waited so long. Or maybe he would have, he’d never really doubted that Thomas would be good at this. “Thomas _please,_ I’m not going to be able to hold it.” He forced out, biting at his lower lip in a desperate attempt to distract himself from the searing hot warmth of Thomas’ mouth, failing and coming in Thomas’ mind only seconds later. He’d lasted a full five minutes, and it was so embarrassing he almost couldn’t focus on enjoying coming down form his high. His entire face felt like it had been set on fire, and he groaned and put a hand over his eyes, hips twitching ever so slightly as Thomas kept bobbing his head slightly until he was completely spent. “If you say a word I swear I’ll hex the living hell out of you.” He breathed, a bit of the venom in the threat disappearing with the fact that he was still out of breath.  
  
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Thomas stated, and Newt was a bit sad he had to cover his eyes, because if he hadn’t he could’ve seen Thomas sit up between his legs. Now he had to resolve to feel it instead, and he was a bit surprised when a warm body covered his own. He was vaguely aware that Thomas’ erection was digging into his thigh, but didn’t comment on it yet. He had to gather himself for a couple of seconds. “Hey, it’s fine, if this was your first time that’s pretty normal. Besides, I do give amazing blowjobs, you’re not the first guy to blow his load quickly.” Thomas muttered, and Newt actually thought he was trying to be reassuring, judging by the way he was nosing softly at the edge of his jaw.  
  
“That’s reassuring, Tommy. Thanks for reminding me that I just drunkenly hooked up with the biggest manwhore in school _and_ came in the span of five minutes, that’s a first time a guy can be proud of.” He snorted sarcastically, still covering his eyes, still feeling his cheeks burn with embarrassment, and if his entire body hadn’t felt like jelly he probably would have covered himself instead of just lying here, unable to enjoy his afterglow although Thomas was currently peppering all over his chest and neck.  
  
The kisses stilled, and Newt thought for a second that his sarcasm had struck home, halfway hoping that Thomas would leave, halfway dreading that he would do just that. When Thomas spoke his voice was slightly hesitant, so when he softly dragged Newt’s hand from his eyes he didn’t put up a fight. “Yeah. About that. That’s why I didn’t want to, you know, go all the way.” He stated, and Newt watched as Thomas moved their wands out of reach, widening his eyes slightly. He was sort of worried about what was to come now.  
  
“You’re not really drunk.” Thomas said, and Newt missed several beats before answering.  
  
“What do you mean? I’ve been drinking like a Ministry Official at a board-meeting all night.” He stated suspiciously, thinking that Thomas was making fun of him.  
  
Thomas sat up, rubbing the back of his neck slightly with a sheepish smile. “Uh, I don’t drink before games, the whiskey you had from me don’t have a lot of alcohol. I think what you’ve had would roughly amount to three or four beers.”  
  
Newt’s mind was reeling, sitting up as well he pondered what the hell that meant. “So… you didn’t bloody want to have sex with me… because I’m not drunk?”  
  
Thomas shook his head. “Nah, that’s not it – I mean, I wouldn’t have done that either, like, I’ve been wanting to do this for a long time but I wouldn’t take advantage of you like that, I only just realized that you thought you were drunk when you left from the party.” He started, dragging Newt’s covers to cover his crotch – which was a mix of very comical and very understandable. Heart-felt talks were better when a boner wasn’t part of them. “I didn’t mean to manipulate you or anything, and that’s why I didn’t want to do it. Wouldn’t want your first time to be like… that.” he said, trailing off as he obviously didn’t know exactly what about his moral-code was being challenged by this whole situation.  
  
Newt rubbed his forehead softly, feeling a strong mix of annoyance, confusion and a bit of relief. He reached for his wand, rolling his eyes at Thomas’ worried look, and conjured a glass of water, taking a sip before handing it over. He cleared his throat. “So, you wanted to do this since 4th year? Why didn’t you?” he asked, deciding to take the conversation in a more comfortable direction – one where Thomas was the one on the spot instead of himself.  
  
Said Slytherin shrugged. “If I asked you out, would you have said yes? Never really seemed like you liked me that much, more like you thought I was… well, a gross manwhore. Like you just tolerated me because we had mutual friends.” He stated, looking as if it was the most obvious of facts. Newt pursed his lips.  
  
“You are a gross manwhore.”  
  
Thomas shrugged again, smiling this time, “Might be. Doesn’t change the fact that I’ve had a crush on you for 3 years. Totally worth the wait seeing your jizzface, by the way, you’re bloody beautiful when you come.”  
  
Newt felt his cheeks heat up, the regret that had filled him dwindling quickly. “Okay. Okay fine. You’re not my boyfriend. You’re taking me on a proper date, and you don’t sit next to Minho until you and I know where this is going. Been trying to get the picture of him sucking your dick out of my head ever since that night last year.”  
  
Thomas seemed oddly pleased with that statement, smirk widening on his face as he moved closer again and Newt rolled his eyes, back to trying to feign nonchalance although he was starting to feel alarmingly warm and fussy inside. “So. Since I’m not drunk. And you’re not manipulating me. And that’s definitely _not_ small enough to be a wand.” He muttered, punctuating the sentence several times by nipping at the hot, tanned skin on Thomas’ collarbone and running his tongue over salty skin. “Wanna make good on that promise to make me scream myself hoarse?” he asked, and was once again taken by surprise as he was flipped over in mere seconds, Thomas resting hot and heavy on top of him all but growling, and Newt might have come embarrassingly quick the first time, but that was nothing compared to how quickly he managed to get hard again.  
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________  
  
“Aaaand the Slytherin’s take the field, lead by Seeker and Team Captain Thomas Davies, this is going to be a bloody hell of a game. The Hufflepuffs are lead by Fry Panton, ready to get his team to victory and the Quidditch Cup whatever that may take. Both teams are in perfect form, we can expect some serious flying tonight, mates. Let’s hope the weather holds.” Newt stated, voice way creakier than it normally was, and he was thankful for the amplifying spell put on his voice. He was almost certain he’d caught Thomas wink at him, flushing beet-red for just a moment before moving on and stating the team’s starting positions. When the game started Chuck nudged his shoulder from next to him, and Newt sent him a burning glance. He still hadn’t forgiven the manipulative little shit (though he might just get a very big Christmas present anyway).  
  
Chuck was grinning like a moron, and Newt raised his eyebrow, glaring and trying to figure out what the little shit was getting at. His eyes followed Chuck’s movement down to his tie, and he shrugged and rolled his eyes. _What the hell is the idiot on about?_ It took him about 12 more minutes before he accidentally caught look of the tie he was wearing. Green. Fuck.


	2. I solemnly swear I'll speak the truth and only the truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas and Newt's first date is great - except Teresa sort of put a truth-spell on Thomas for fun. Newt seizes this chance to draw some truths out of the evasive Slytherin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. This was prompted by [brolin-merthur](http://brolin-merthur.tumblr.com/) on tumblr and betaed by my wonderful name sister [ass-of-cas](http://ass-of-cas.tumblr.com).  
> 2\. This has been a long time coming. I really hope you guys think it was worth it.

Teresa looked intensely amused, and Thomas wasn’t entirely sure he liked it. He’d known her since he was a little kid, and she definitely knew him a lot better than he liked sometimes. She’d noticed the spring in his step instantly, and well, she’d also noticed that his tie was yellow and black instead of green and silver. She’d even changed the colours for him as her own annoying way of letting him know that he was busted.  


So yeah, she’d figured out that he’d finally gotten into Newt’s pants, as she’d so vulgarly put it, and now she was curious. Curious-Teresa wasn’t exactly Thomas’ favourite Teresa, but she was too smart for him to actually keep anything from her. “So, a date.”  
  
Thomas grimaced. _Here we go._ ”T, if you don’t shut up…”  
  
Teresa made a zipping movement in front of her mouth. ”I will be the silentest mute person in your entire life.” Thomas looked at her suspiciously. That was really hard to believe. “If-” _There it is_ “-You tell me everything about it. How did you manage? You weren’t really his favorite person after that thing with Minho.”

  
Thomas shrugged, pressing his lips closely together. Of course Teresa had figured that out. By Merlin, that woman was going to wreck the Ministry when they inevitably gave her a job. They’d probably regret it forever. “I’ll tell you… something.”  
  
“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked, looking horribly unsatisfied with his tone.  
  
“That I’d never tell you the truth about what happened because you’ll just find a way to mock me with it,” Thomas stated, and maybe he shouldn’t have because honestly it was too stupid a thing to do. You should never, _never_ challenge Teresa. The way she lifted her chin just slightly and stared at him down the bridge of her nose.  
  
Then she shrugged. “Fine.” And her face melted into a pleasant expression. Thomas didn’t like it. It made him nervous.  
  
“Fine?”  
  
She nodded, still smiling. “Yeah. Fine. If you don’t want to tell me the truth yourself, I’ll have to force you.” And then she pointed her wand directly at his face and muttered some words that Thomas didn’t hear because he was busy stumbling backwards and falling over a chair, ending up on his ass.  
  
“What the hell did you do that for?! And _what_ did you do?!” he asked, slightly panicked as he felt his face for any unwelcome changes. “Teresa, I swear, I will not talk to you for a week before you manage to make me forgive you if you did something to my face. I’m going on a date with him in _twenty minutes._ I don’t have time for this!” he scolded, still terrified that she’d done something really bad.  
  
Teresa smiled happily. “How to check this out… Hmm. Does your bum hurt for other reasons than the fact that you just fell on it?”  
  
Thomas gaped at her. “I’m not answering that!”  
  
Teresa just pursed her lips happily. “Are you sure? Because I just put a truth-spell on you and I know for a fact that you can’t remove it yourself. So if I don’t do it for you, you’re gonna go on a date with a truth spell placed on you.” And her expression was one of so much glee that Thomas actually doubted whether or not he could go on a date like this. He wouldn’t have thought it a problem until Teresa made that face.  
  
“I didn’t plan on lying to him anyway.” He stated tentatively, hoping that there wasn’t some kind of weird catch to it.  
  
Teresa shrugged innocently. “Well, you’ve never been known to keep your mouth shut…”

 

Thomas shuddered slightly. She was right. “Aaaand…” she added, looking even happier. The twinkle in her eyes made Thomas sad he’d ever met her for just a second. “I may have added something. Like… Well, maybe you’re randomly going to blurt out things.”  
  
Thomas closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “So… when he asks me what I’m thinking about… I’m gonna say…”  
  
Teresa snickered. “Oh yes.”  
  
“How do I get around it?” He opened his eyes only to be met by Teresa’s most gleeful look yet.  
  
“By telling me every detail!” she stated, and Thomas shook his head.  
  
He stood up. “No way. No way. I’m not doing that.” And as he brushed his pants off, he glared at her. “I’m gonna get through this date without your help. I’m not that bad. I can do this.”  
  
She just nodded with that innocent smile on her face, and Thomas narrowed his eyes at her. “You’re a terrible person.”  
  
“I know. It keeps me up at night.”  
  
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________  
  
“You’re very quiet,” Newt stated casually, making Thomas’ head snap up, and he smiled sheepishly, which made Newt feel slightly less worried – but not totally comforted. He cocked an eyebrow at the brunet and tipped his head to the side a bit. “What’s wrong with you? You’re being weird. You’re never weird. You’re always a slut and a bloody pain in my arse, but you’re never weird.”  
  
Thomas sat up straighter, smirking and winking at him. “If it hurt, you could’ve just told me.”  
  
Newt rolled his eyes. “Funny. You’re funny. At least you’re not just looking weird now. Don’t tell me you’re already regretting this,” he snorted, sarcasm colouring his voice although he was actually feeling a cold fear grab hold of his heart. What if Thomas had already decided he didn’t want to do this? He got what he wanted, and now he was going to tell Newt that he wasn’t bloody interested anymore.  
  
He didn’t get any further in this pattern of self-deprecating thoughts, because Thomas was violently shaking his head, his hand shooting over to clutch Newt’s over the table. “No. No, never. It’s nothing, I promise, I’m just a bit stressed out over… all the magic and stuff.”  
  
Newt furrowed his brows. “Uh… Okay. Okay fine,” he muttered, feeling sceptical because which 7th year could still be stressed out over magic? He decided to leave it, though, because Thomas was… well, Newt got the sense that Thomas wasn’t the kind of guy you wanted to push too hard, or he’d just push back. Not that Newt didn’t feel like he could if it came down to that, but he didn’t want to right now. Instead he just smiled slightly and glanced down at their now-joined hands and looked at the other guy. “I have to say, I’m a bit surprised that we actually ended up here. If you’d have told me that a year ago, I would’ve bloody laughed in your face.”  
  
The brunet took a sip of his Butterbeer and smiled at him from across the table. “I think I always sort of felt like we’d end up here. I just didn’t know exactly how to get us here, and I didn’t want to scare you away. I could sort of sense that you were a bit reluctant about it.”  
  
Newt cocked an eyebrow. “Oh, is that what you call rejecting you at least once a month for the good of two years?”  
  
Thomas shrugged with a small smile from the opposite side of the table and put his hands around his glass. “You didn’t reject me much with my dick up your arse last night.”

  
Newt blinked. Thomas blinked. And then he coloured a scarlet red. “That’s… a very private thing to talk about in public,” Newt stated, not entirely sure how to react to this because _what the hell, Tommy?_  
  
“I… Teresa hexed me. To always say exactly what’s on my mind. What little filter I had is now taken from me. So I… maybe we should reschedule?”  
  
And Newt knew that this was wrong. He knew that he was being a little shit, but he couldn’t help himself. Thomas had tormented him (only in the best way of course) for two years, and he sort of wanted to get back at him. Teresa had given him the perfect tool for doing just that, and he was definitely going to give her a Christmas present this year (probably anonymously, but still). “No no, it’s fine. It’ll be fine. I don’t mind, I promise,” he said, trying to sound reassuring and smiling the best he could. He didn’t want Thomas to notice what was going to happen before it was too late. “So, how’re you going to spend the next two weeks? I mean, will there be time for dates between you studying and you making a bloody mess of the entire castle?”  
  
Thomas, who had seemed a bit suspicious on the other side of the table, seemed to relax a bit and started smiling. “I’d make time for you any day if you wanted me to.” He coloured a bit again, and Newt squeezed his hand a little, taking a sip of his own iced tea. He didn’t get how Thomas could drink Butterbeer in this weather – it was way too hot to drink anything not cooled. He didn’t comment on it, though, because he was much more interested in Thomas admitting that he’d always make time for him. This truth spell could end up being a really interesting thing. He mentally added another few Galleons to Teresa’s Christmas present.  
  
“Sounds bloody amazing, I’ll look forward to it. I’d hate not to have a repeat of the other night in the near future.” He stated, looking Thomas straight in the eye to gauge his reaction.  
  
He didn’t disappoint. His mouth fell slightly open and he swallowed, obviously not expecting Newt to be so blatantly direct about this stuff. “Uhm. Same with me. Yes, I really enjoyed it.” He stated lamely, and Newt sort of wanted to kiss him because _what an idiot, that’s what’s in your brain right now?_  
  
“What did you enjoy about it?” he pressed mercilessly, his eyes boring into Thomas’ brown ones.  
  
He almost smirked when Thomas looked around quickly, satisfied with having reduced resident Hogwarts player to a blushing mess. “I loved the way you felt. You looked so hot and all I could think of all night was how much I wanted you, so when I got you I almost couldn’t believe it. And you were so good. I mean, I knew it was your first, so I didn’t expect it to be that good. You were brilliant, I almost couldn’t think. I think I could come from just thinking about it.”  
  
Newt laughed when Thomas’ cheeks coloured even more, and he wondered if the bloke was going to pass out soon from all the blood apparently surging to his head. He put his elbow on the table and watched Thomas under slightly lowered eyelashes. “Is that so? Wouldn’t want that, Tommy. We’re in public, you know. That would be bad. I think we should wait for later with taking you apart.”  
  
Thomas swallowed again, and Newt nodded to his Butterbeer, silently urging him to drink some. The brunet obeyed, his face a weird mix of confused, intrigued and mortified of his rebellious tongue. “I agree. Much better idea. Public isn’t good, not _this_ public.”  
  
Newt could feel his eyes light up with the new information, and he almost cackled evilly, but ended up being able to stop himself – although the restraint took everything he had in him. “Not _this_ public? Classrooms?” he asked, relishing in the way Thomas gripped the table, obviously aroused and slightly disturbed at the same time. “Anything else you want to try?”  
  
Thomas’ face looked almost panicked and he shook his head quickly. “Please don’t do this to me,” he muttered, embarrassed, and Newt almost felt bad for him. Almost.  
  
“Maybe I’ll like hearing about it. We can go somewhere more private if you’re feeling weird about the public space? I’d love to hear more.” And he knew that he was pushing his luck, he was being mean, but he definitely planned on using this information to Thomas’ benefit later on, so it was legitimate, right?  
  
Thomas stood up instantly, shuffling around a bit and Newt suspected that his blood flow was pretty evenly divided between his downstairs head and his upstairs head. He wasn’t quite sure what was happening to him, because until Thomas he’d only exchanged fumbling handjobs with a boy from Beauxbatons when they visited last year, and it had been awkward and too dry and a bit painful. And now here he was, torturing this beautiful guy who apparently would make time for him any day by slowly teasing him into revealing his sexual fantasies. “Tommy?” he muttered when they were at the fireplace, ready to floo into Newt’s room at Hogwarts (special password said together with the flooing address, it was brilliant really, something Mrs. Granger-Weasley had come up with), turning ever so slightly to look at the other guy and grabbing for his hand. “You know you just need to ask me to stop if I cross the line, right?”  
  
Newt frowned when Thomas _whimpered,_ but the frown turned into a smile quickly enough. “I’m sorry, Tommy, I didn’t catch that?”  
  
Thomas gritted his teeth. “I said,” a pause where he took a deep breath, “I kind of like it. You twat.”  
  
And Newt would never tell anyone about the way that made a wave of butterflies erupt into cheers in his stomach, but it did, and he squeezed Thomas’ hand softly. “Do you like it when I talk dirty to you, Tommy?”  
  
A low groan was all the answer he got and all the answer he needed. He smirked to himself and let go of Thomas, “I’ll floo first.” He stated, pecking the brunet on his cheek and letting him know the location and the password in the same breath.  
  
Seconds after he stumbled into his own room Thomas followed after, and he felt the brunet (his boyfriend? Were they boyfriends now? Newt had no clue) push him towards the bed. “You’re evil.”  
  
He couldn’t help but laugh, but he squirmed around a bit, just because this was honestly too fun to not exploit just a little, so he managed to turn and make eye contact. “You like it.” The groaned _‘yes’_ that followed from Thomas prompted him to laugh again, but lips were pressed to his, and the quick burst was muffled against the brunet’s lips. “Okay, I have an idea. I promise that I’ll be just as honest as you are. I’ll try at least,” he suggested, still a bit sore from yesterday, and he felt like this was a great opportunity to know more about Thomas – not just the sexual stuff, although it was definitely funny.  
  
The Slytherin looked at him thoughtfully but ended up nodding. “Okay. I can work with that.”  
  
Newt sat down on the bed, looking expectantly at Thomas, and when he didn’t speak right away the blonde decided that maybe he should ask some more to prompt Thomas to come up with something. “So, apart from the public things…”  
  
Thomas blinked, looking like he was trying very hard not to think about anything, but ending up failing completely. “I’d like to know what you want to do,” he blurted, and Newt was actually surprised at the question. Why was Thomas embarrassed over that one…? It took him a few seconds to realize, and he felt his heart jump with happiness. Thomas just wanted to know what he wanted. He’d never expected this, but it made his face melt into a huge-ass beam that would have embarrassed him if Thomas didn’t look so embarrassed himself.  
  
And he didn’t really know what happened to him. He didn’t know what came over him, because honestly this wasn’t exactly like him (maybe the ‘exactly’ was redundant because this was _nothing_ like him), but he sat up and moved to sit over Thomas’ hips, smirking down at him while pushing him to lie down on the bed. “I have a new idea.”  
  
Thomas immediately looked more interested. “Now I’m curious. Tell me,” he breathed, as he let Newt push him down without question. He was beautiful; Newt was pretty sure he’d never seen anything like those golden eyes.  
  
Newt pondered visibly, enjoying just a little bit to keep Thomas waiting (because _really, Tommy? Two years?),_ slowly stroking his fingertips over Thomas’ cloak-clad torso. “Every truth you tell me earns you a reward.” Thomas’ eyes narrowed a bit, and Newt felt the corners of his mouth twitch up a little more. “It’ll be worth it. I promise. I won’t ask you something very awful.”  
  
The brunet seemed to consider it, but ended up nodding and folding his arms over his chest. Newt wasn’t sure if he was actually going to go with it, but he was willing to give it a shot. “Okay, for how long have you liked me?”  
  
Thomas instantly coloured bright red and managed to press his lips together for a whole minute before the blurting-spell overpowered him and he sighed, keeping his arms crossed and the dissatisfied expression on his face. “Four years. I didn’t see you that way in the beginning, but then one day you’d come out of a hard class and you had an ink spot on your cheek that I really wanted to wipe off. Then I started realizing that maybe I didn’t like you as a friend anymore. I think that’s when you and I started falling out.”  
  
Newt wanted to bury his face in Thomas’ cloak because _how embarrassing can you be? Ink? On your face?_ But also Thomas liking him for so long. His emotions were fighting each other, so he did the only thing he could do – carry out his promise. More specifically freeing Thomas of the cloak slowly and folding it neatly before placing it on the bed.  
  
“That’s my reward? You taking my cloak off me like a good boy? That’s a small reward for letting go of my dignity, isn’t it?” Thomas asked, glaring up at him, and Newt couldn’t help but laugh although his hands were still shaking slightly because of the revelation that had just been made.  
  
“I think you’re lucky you’re good at Quidditch, Tommy, because you bloody hell aren’t smart.” He stated, leaning down to nip at Thomas’ lower lip for a couple of seconds, before moving downwards further and nudging at the brunet’s chin softly with his nose. When Thomas got the hint and moved his head backwards he proceeded to pepper small kisses all over his neck, alternating nipping, biting and sucking. “Think deeper, Tommy, I’m going to reward you for every truth. The cloak was the first one.”  
  
He felt the change in Thomas’ body underneath him, and he couldn’t help revelling in it, so he looked up, smile grazing his features, to see butterscotch eyes trained on his face. The look on Thomas’ face shouldn’t have been legal, but he wasn’t one to complain. “Did you ever have any feelings for Minho?” he asked, the question slipping out before he could help himself. He winced. “Please, don’t answer that,” he stated, knowing that Thomas couldn’t help himself anyway. The question was way over the line, and it had the potential to ruin the mood completely. If he found out that Thomas had once had real feelings for Minho he probably wouldn’t be in a playful mood much longer.  
  
The voice that answered him was slightly hesitant and the look on Thomas’ face had changed to slightly worried. “Newt, you know I can’t help but answer. I did, Minho’s my best friend, I wanted to have sex with him – if I didn’t, I wouldn’t have.”  
  
So that stung. Newt was already feeling himself close off, readying to get off Thomas, but the brunet’s hand shot out to clutch at his arm. “Please don’t, not yet,” he said, and Newt’s heart sank.  
  
_Not yet? When then?_ He nodded slightly, swallowing hard.  
  
“I did have feelings for Minho, but they weren’t like that. Minho and me always looked after each other, I care about him a lot, and the sex was good, but I was never in love with him. I never even had a crush on him, and he didn’t have one on me. We were playing around, it was fun, but if it helps, I never thought of him the way I thought of you. We went back to being friends – just friends, just like we were before. Besides, he snogs Teresa when they think we’re not looking.”  
  
Newt blinked, not sure what to do with what felt like the wall of information that had just been thrown at him. “Minho… and Teresa?” he asked, furrowing his brows, and Thomas nodded.  
  
“Yeah, gross, isn’t it?”  
  
Newt blinked again. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to do this, Thomas couldn’t control anything he was saying and it was way too easy to let himself be derailed from the topic that really mattered. “Okay, I’m going about this wrong. I didn’t mean to ask that, that was really intrusive. I just…” And then it finally hit him. “Wait… ‘The way you thought of me’ was different than ‘The way you thought of him’?”  
  
Thomas frowned. “The air-quotes make me feel a tiny bit on the spot, but yes, of course. He’s my friend. You’re something completely different. You’ve always been different.”  
  
Newt pursed his lips and removed his cloak, quicker this time, but folding it none the less. He was nothing if not orderly with his things. “Different how? What did you think of me before?”  
  
Thomas groaned below him, obviously yet again embarrassed by the answer he would be forced to give. “Different like I actually had feelings for you. Way before you ever noticed me like that, I had that stupid crush, and because I was a much better friend before I liked you, I tried to hide it by being… me. And I was being the real me, I wasn’t pretending to be someone else or anything, but I played it up a bit, I teased you in ways I wouldn’t do to the others. I know you noticed. That’s why we stopped being friends for a while.”  
  
Another happy beam was growing on Newt’s face, and he probably looked ridiculous, trying to be all seductive and then ending up sitting here grinning like a bloody idiot, but he couldn’t help himself. “I think two rewards are in order after that bloody declaration.” He stated, knowing that he didn’t sound half as cocky as he wanted to. He felt like a giant mush, so he settled for removing their ties instead of just sitting here like a giant bloody idiot.  
  
He moved, after having discarded both of the ties, to start unbuttoning Thomas’s shirt, feeling his own mouth go a little dry, but resolving to keep this up. They were getting to know each other. It was supposed to be about that, not about what came after (okay _he_ was getting to know _Thomas_ , and they were probably _both_ pretty preoccupied with what came after, if the way Thomas’s glance was roaming over him was anything to go by). He didn’t get that far, though, because soon the Slytherin’s hands caught his wrists. “Small request,” Thomas muttered huskily, “Yours first? I want to see you.”  
  
Newt nodded mutely, not sure what to say to this, so instead he focused on something else. “I had a crush on you for a long time too. I really wanted to be your friend when we were younger. Like, embarrassingly so, and then we grew older, and you became… All of _that_.” At this he made a gesture that was supposed to be non-committal and sort of distant but ended up being an awkward towards Thomas instead. “And at the same time as you started becoming _that_ , I started realizing that maybe I didn’t just want to be friends with you. I don’t know if it had been a bloody crush for all that time and I only just realized, or if I just started feeling it then, but then you started being weird, and I always sort of assumed that either you’d figured me out and you were taunting me, or you just didn’t like me very much.”  
  
Pain flashed briefly in Thomas’ eyes, and he sat up, managing only barely to grab onto Newt so he didn’t tilt backwards at the sudden movement. “It was never because of that. I’m sorry.” He muttered, and a rain of soft, short kisses drizzled over Newt’s lips, not lengthy enough for him to actually kiss back, but he couldn’t do much about it. He’d been seconds from having his shirt off completely and his arms were now caught by his sides by Thomas’s own arms around him.  
  
“You’re ruining – ” Newt started, interrupted by a kiss slightly longer than the others and a soft nip at his lower lip that sent shivers down his spine. “ – the game,” he managed to mutter, feeling unreasonably breathless for the short amount of time they’d been out of the public eye, but not finding it in him to actually be ashamed about that right now. Those beautiful eyes were looking at him, and he almost whined when Thomas released his arms and flopped back on the bed, because he really didn’t care much for the game anymore. He still wanted to talk, he still wanted to get to know each other, but the overwhelming urge to kiss Thomas was much more potent than the need to play Q&A.  
  
“I’m not very sorry about that,” Thomas laughed, his trademark smile in place, and Newt’s heart leapt again. Maybe he should get that checked. “I needed you to know that I never hated you. I never cared for Minho like I care for you, there’s no reason to be jealous, there’s no reason to think I didn’t like you. I liked you too much, and that freaked me out. Then I’d already pushed you so far away from me that I didn’t know what to do to get you back, and Chuck mentioned that you might – ”  
  
Newt held up a hand after having finally shed his shirt, not bothering to fold this one because there were more important things than creases in one’s uniform, after all. “Chuck?” he asked, voice laced with the tiniest bit of suspicion.  
  
“Oops.”  
  
Newt frowned. “Oops? Chuck? What did he do?”  
  
“Please don’t make me tell on him,” Thomas begged from underneath him, and Newt rolled his eyes.  
  
“Tell. Me.”  
  
A small groan and Thomas twisted his hips slightly, obviously hoping to distract Newt only to be disappointed when that didn’t happen. “He told me you liked me. So I thought maybe you liked the flirty me and I decided to keep that up. Apparently that was sort of stupid but also the right choice in the long run. I’ll buy Teresa a shitty Christmas present for this.” – the last part was muttered under his breath, but Newt heard it none the less.  
  
“I’ll buy her a big one, she’ll be fine,” Newt stated, grinning, but then he slapped Thomas on the chest lightly, “Chuck, on the other hand, isn’t getting one from me.”  
  
Thomas just kept muttering soft (and very unimpressive) threats under his breath, and Newt honestly couldn’t help but find it adorable that the worst things Thomas could come up with were apparently so lame because he knew that it was the truth-spell speaking – meaning that everything from “small Christmas presents” to “blue colour in her food so her tongue’ll be blue” and finally “hex her so everyone she touches anywhere will have pink handmarks, teach her and Minho to sneak around” was absolutely true.  
  
Newt leaned his weight back down on Thomas's hips and traced a finger along his jawline. “You’re sort of cute,” he laughed, and Thomas wrinkled his nose.  
  
“Cute,” he snorted, and Newt rolled his eyes softly, starting to unbutton Thomas’s shirt a bit.  
  
“I don’t think I’ll take it all off. You didn’t really tell me a truth about you, just about the others. But it’s worth something,” he teased, making Thomas’s eyes light up slightly.  
  
They changed halfway, though, from excitement to something sly and seductive that made Newt’s cock twitch. “I thought about you sometimes when I was wanking,” Thomas stated, and Newt hadn’t thought he could be more excited, but here he was, suppressing a moan at the thought of Thomas touching himself while thinking of him. He popped another button, unable to speak because his throat was growing suddenly very dry. Thomas seemed to understand what he did right. “Imagined you coming apart beneath me like you did last night. You sucking me off. A lot with that one, really. I’ve wanted that for a long time. It always gets me really hot and bothered.”  
  
Newt wasn’t sure if he wanted to punch or kiss the bastard, because he was rapidly losing control and he was supposed to be the one in control in this, and right now he certainly wasn’t, because he felt himself writhing just a bit in Thomas’s lap, adjusting himself and clearing his throat before opening Thomas’s shirt completely and pushing it down to reveal hard, muscled shoulders that had definitely been featured in his own fantasies more times than he cared to admit. He was pretty sure Thomas knew by the way his eyes trained on them immediately, though, because the Slytherin chuckled and ran his hands up Newt’s sides softly. “Oh, you like me telling you that, don’t you? I could tell you more, if you’d like me to.”  


Newt should say no. He should really turn down that suggestion right now, because he was trying to accomplish something, but that was close to impossible. If he had to let go of his control to know Thomas’s dirtiest thoughts of him, so be it. He couldn’t find it in himself to shake his head. “Do it,” he ended up whispering, keeping his voice low so he wouldn’t betray himself with how much his voice was shaking. He was probably hoarse from a dry throat already.  
  
“I thought of fucking you into the pillows in every position possible,” Thomas stated, following Newt’s movements with his eyes when the blonde fumbled with his belt and zipper, having decided that the truths were worth getting him completely undressed for. “Thought of you having to bite down on the pillow to stop yourself from screaming my name. Thought of fucking you in the classrooms, by the lake at night. Making love in the Astronomy Tower under the stars.” He winced, obviously unhappy with the rather sappy part that had slipped in, but it managed to wipe out the last bit of Newt’s self-control and he quickly shed both Thomas’s and his own pants, throwing them on the floor carelessly and making a sound of surprise when he turned back and Thomas was sitting up now, snaking his arms around Newt’s waist yet again. He _had_ felt him move, but not realized that he was so close now. There was that smirk again, and Newt knew he was blushing but was unable to stop it.  
  
“Sometimes I’ve accidentally thought of you in class. You bent over a couple of weeks ago and my brain just went bonkers,” the other guy murmured, having moved his head now so he could mouth at a soft nipple, teasing it with his tongue and teeth until Newt made a low keening sound in his throat. The feeling of Thomas’s warm lips on him and the way the Slytherin moved his hips ever so slightly under him, grinding a straining erection against him shallowly made it really hard to think.  
  
He’d made his decision, though, so he put his hands on Thomas’s chest and spread his fingers, admiring the moles dotting his skin for a couple of seconds before slowly pushing him to lie back down and crawling back just a bit before realizing that this wasn’t going to work. He was already demonstrating how hopelessly inexperienced he was, so he cleared his throat and moved to the floor, getting on his knees. “Tommy? Can you sit on the edge of the bed?”  
  
His words sounded awkward to himself, but Thomas surely didn’t seem to bloody mind, because he moved in seconds and leaned down to press a long kiss to his lips. It made Newt’s head spin. Thomas’s position was probably uncomfortable, but he kept nipping and kissing at Newt’s lips until the blond pulled away, breathing hard and moving closer again. “Newt, you don’t have to if you’re not ready. It wasn’t a hint or anything. I mean, I’d love for you to do it, I’ve fantasized about it a million times, but I didn’t mean for you to feel like you had to, although you look incredibly sexy on your knees. I could probably come just from watching you.”  
  
Then his face colored in the cutest way Newt had ever seen. He turned a dark shade of red, once again embarrassed by the spell Teresa had placed on him, and Newt wanted to cuddle Thomas’s face in his hands.  
  
“I told you you’d get a reward. I want to, just… tell me if I do something wrong.”  
  
Insecurity surged through him at the thought, an insecurity that he hadn’t felt until he was sitting here. Thomas trusted him, and it terrified him. What if he hurt him? He almost winced, but managed to control himself, and Thomas smiled at him, shaking his head softly. “I doubt that you could, Newt. Everything you do is amazing to me.”  
  
It was so sappy, so cheesy, and Newt loved that he knew that it was exactly what entered Thomas’s mind at this exact time, so he leaned in, experimentally nuzzling the inside of Thomas’s thigh with his nose, licking and kissing softly while he made his way to the erection that was seemingly growing harder for every passing moment. Newt loved knowing that he had this effect on the other guy.  
  
So he took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and he wrapped his fingers around Thomas as softly as he could, scared to hurt Thomas, and he startled slightly when a warm hand wrapped around his and squeezed harder, moving them together. His heart was beating in his throat, and he opened his eyes to see the brunet’s face, fumbling for any sort of clue on how he was doing, but all he met was warm amber eyes that made his insides twist. Thomas smiled encouragingly, and Newt cleared his throat, opening and closing his mouth a single time before finally giving into it. “Uh, maybe this should wait a while,” he said, knowing that he was flushed red in his entire face and hating every single seconds of this, but finding himself unable to stop it.  
  
Fortunately, Thomas was probably the best guy ever, because it only took him about a second to hide his look of disappointment before he just smiled cheerfully and shook his head softly. “Don’t worry about it. We’ll take our time, you don’t have to do anything.”  
  
And once again that soft, warm feeling settled inside, and somehow only with that one look Thomas managed to take the awkward, sinking feeling away and convince Newt to get in his lap. “I’m sorry.”  
  
Thomas just shook his head. “Don’t be. Don’t ever be sorry.”  
  
“I just, I know it’s weird with what we did yesterday,” he muttered, trying not to hang his head, because he wasn’t some child getting scolded and he knew that he couldn’t help his feelings – he just didn’t want Thomas to think that he was a huge idiot. He wasn’t good with this. He hadn’t been doing this as long as Thomas had: he had no idea how to work around all this stuff, and if he was being perfectly honest with himself, it sort of terrified him. His mind was reeling with all the ways he could embarrass himself, so when a warm hand wrapped around the back of his again and moved their joined fingers to take a firm grip on Newt’s own cock he gave a soft groan of surprise, not managing anything that even remotely resembled words.  
  
He was met with soft laughter, muffled against the sensitive skin on his neck, which drew a full-body shiver from him.  
  
“Newt – ” He was certain he could get addicted to the way Thomas said his name. “I don’t care if you won’t do anything back.” The shivers up his spine only intensified as Thomas kept lazily stroking him with their joined fingers, “I don’t mean to pressure you to do anything. I didn’t mean to spill all those thoughts, it’s just that bloody spell Teresa put on me, I can’t keep the stuff I usually would in, and it’s so hard not to tell you that I want to touch you all the time. I want to make you feel good, and I want you to make me feel good, but just because I want that, it doesn’t mean that it’s what I want most, it’s just the first thing that comes to mind.”  
  
Speaking of addictive, Thomas had slowly sped up the pace, and Newt wasn’t certain if it was that or the words spilling from the brunet’s lips that made his heart beat faster and his cheeks flush embarrassingly red, but he felt his entire body tremble under Thomas’ soft touches. He squeezed his eyes closed, leaned in and managed to bury his face in Thomas’ collar bone just before spilling over both their abdomens as Thomas’ last words rung in his ears. “When all those things pass, the only thing that’s left is that I want to make you happy.”   



	3. What's ours is yours.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The password to the Slytherin common room is a foul, bigoted one. Lucky enough, for those not comfortable saying it, the Hufflepuffs don't mind sharing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. This is just a snippet, but it fit so well and I feel bad for saying that there won't be anymore to this verse.  
> 2\. Prompted by [twin2ovesj](http://twin2ovesj.tumblr.com/) because of [this](http://twin2ovesj.tumblr.com/post/115500170389/tavoriel-whimsybrain-a-group-of-slytherin) post.

Thomas didn’t normally mind being in Slytherin. He liked his house, he liked that it was full of ambitious, strong-willed people who were willing to bend the rules sometimes to get the best possible results. Thomas connected with a lot of them and even if the house had had a pretty terrible reputation for pureblood snobbery and bigotry for many years, the new generation of Slytherins definitely had some different values although some were still indoctrinated from a very young age by their ridiculous parents.

The brunet, of course, had chosen his group of friends in a way that made sure that he’d get around without having to listen to too much of that.

Up until now. Which was why he and Minho were camping out on the dungeon floor together with several other Slytherins including Rachel, Ben amongst others. There wasn’t much to do but wait seeing as the professor in charge had refused to change the codeword, claiming that they were being overly sensitive.

“What’s up guys?”

Thomas barely looked up but just ran his fingers through his hair tiredly. He could recognize Aris’ voice in his sleep, he’d known the kid since they were just children, “Jones. The bloody trash of a potion’s master chose a bigoted password. We’re striking.”

Aris nodded solemnly and his boyfriend, Gally, furrowed his brows, “That’s not fair. So you’re out here in the cold because you refuse to talk badly about others?”

Thomas shrugged. Him and Gally had had a rocky start, but things were getting better between the two of them. Seeing the green-eyed boy so in love with one of Thomas’ best friends definitely made him more likable. It had also softened his tough-guy act a little bit.

“That’s not okay,” Gally stated again, squeezing Aris’ hand and leaning in to mutter something. Thomas didn’t even bother straining to hear. He’d been out here for hours and it was cold and dark and he was tired, but the floor was too hard to sit on. He missed principle McGonagall, although she probably didn’t miss him, seeing as she was currently enjoying her vacation in Egypt. “You guys can come to my common room.”

Several faces snapped up in surprise. Thomas shared a quick look with Minho, who - just like Thomas himself - had had plenty of fights with Gally in their early school years and at the same time they both nodded. “Thank you,”

And soon a group of about 15 Slytherins were settled in the cosy Hufflepuff common room, packed in warm blankets with hot chocolate between their hands, being fussed over by several very nice, very caring Hufflepuffs. Thomas himself was being scolded by his boyfriend, of course, for not thinking about going here, all the while Newt was studying for his O.W.L.s. An impressive feat really, but one that Thomas didn’t exactly mind, seeing as his head was in Newt’s lap and his boyfriend was absentmindedly threading his fingers through brown hair while he was ranting on. Hogwarts really was home.

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. This may turn into a multi-chapter fic later on when I get through more of my prompts. I really enjoyed this.  
> 2\. As a final note I urge you all to imagine what would have happened if Newt hadn't had any lube. I almost shat myself laughing inside my room alone while thinking of a tube of lube floating through the Hufflepuff common room and banging against the door until they opened it.


End file.
